Read Online Hearts Out of Time by Chris Lange - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Chris Lange
Ads: Link
wolfdog stood up at the mention of his name while Weedon’s gaze traveled to him. “It can be. Speaking of which . . . I think we’ll go for a walk before returning and retiring for the night. What do you say, my friend?”
White Fur rubbed against her legs once before padding to the front door and glancing at his master.
“Goodnight, Tracy,” Weedon said. “Don’t think too much and get a good rest. Tomorrow might be a long day, for all we know.”
“Goodnight, Weedon.”
She watched them step outside, the man and the wolfdog who belonged to a cold country but who nurtured warmth in their hearts.
Back in her room, a new task awaited her: taking off the beautiful gown. She didn’t want to disturb the maid at this late hour so she managed it by herself. Then she donned the nightdress that rested on the bed.
She’d never seen nor worn its kind. Long-sleeved, white with English embroidery, falling to her feet, the heavy cottoned dress was anything but enjoyable and seductive. A damn long stretch from the twenty-first century silky, smooth negligees she used to wear for Tim’s pleasure.
She needed to sleep but the squabble with Garrett left her peeved and restless. Opening the window didn’t help so she closed it again. She hated the idea they might spend the next days bickering or ignoring each other because of immature hard feelings.
More to the point, she couldn’t stand the thought of having disappointed him. Going over it in her mind wouldn’t change a damn thing. She’d done nothing wrong, and she needed to talk about it. Right now.
After making sure the corridor was empty, she tiptoed on bare feet, crossed the hallway and knocked on Garrett’s door.
“Come in.”
She took a deep breath at the sound of his voice, stilled her fingers around the handle, entered his room, and shut the door.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” she asked.
“Not in that attire, you cannot. Miss Richardson, this is most inappropriate.”
Garrett’s chest heaved and fell, apparently from the shocking sight of her camouflage nightdress.
He wore a dark red heavy bathrobe adorned with golden patterns. Even at a relaxed time of night, he looked handsome, but so formal that she had to stifle a spontaneous smile. She sucked in another long breath. Although she viewed herself as easy-going, apologizing had never been natural to her.
“I’m sorry,” she said reluctantly. “What I did was kind of selfish, and I should have told you I was going out. Can we act as mature adults now?”
Garrett glared at her. Squaring his shoulders, he drew himself up to a tall and haughty posture. “Don’t lecture me about being mature. Your attitude was reckless and unacceptable, Miss Richardson. As things presently stand, you aren’t even expressing regret for your actions, but merely talking your way out of a guilty conscience.”
What? She’d just given him her best shot and he wasn’t satisfied? A single day in his company and she was sick and tired of him. She didn’t understand him. She couldn’t. She apologized, what more did he want?
“Okay,” she snapped. “That’s it. I’ve had enough of you. You’re nothing but a mean, spiteful man, and you don’t deserve the trust Dad puts in you.”
Shaking with fury, she didn’t wait for his answer, just banged the door behind her and went back to the sanctuary of her room. How could a mere guy irritate her so? A man she barely knew.
Before she had the chance to figure it out, Garrett barged in after her and slammed the door with a loud bang. “How dare you insult me? How in heaven’s name have you the audacity to intrude on my privacy and display yourself like a . . . like a—” Matching his glowering eyes, his tone flayed her like a fleet of razors, blasting its way through her protective anger.
“Like a slut?” She finished his sentence, hurt beyond words, wanting so much to hurt him back, wanting so much to take it out on him. “Well, Mister Burnes, I’ll
White Fur rubbed against her legs once before padding to the front door and glancing at his master.
“Goodnight, Tracy,” Weedon said. “Don’t think too much and get a good rest. Tomorrow might be a long day, for all we know.”
“Goodnight, Weedon.”
She watched them step outside, the man and the wolfdog who belonged to a cold country but who nurtured warmth in their hearts.
Back in her room, a new task awaited her: taking off the beautiful gown. She didn’t want to disturb the maid at this late hour so she managed it by herself. Then she donned the nightdress that rested on the bed.
She’d never seen nor worn its kind. Long-sleeved, white with English embroidery, falling to her feet, the heavy cottoned dress was anything but enjoyable and seductive. A damn long stretch from the twenty-first century silky, smooth negligees she used to wear for Tim’s pleasure.
She needed to sleep but the squabble with Garrett left her peeved and restless. Opening the window didn’t help so she closed it again. She hated the idea they might spend the next days bickering or ignoring each other because of immature hard feelings.
More to the point, she couldn’t stand the thought of having disappointed him. Going over it in her mind wouldn’t change a damn thing. She’d done nothing wrong, and she needed to talk about it. Right now.
After making sure the corridor was empty, she tiptoed on bare feet, crossed the hallway and knocked on Garrett’s door.
“Come in.”
She took a deep breath at the sound of his voice, stilled her fingers around the handle, entered his room, and shut the door.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” she asked.
“Not in that attire, you cannot. Miss Richardson, this is most inappropriate.”
Garrett’s chest heaved and fell, apparently from the shocking sight of her camouflage nightdress.
He wore a dark red heavy bathrobe adorned with golden patterns. Even at a relaxed time of night, he looked handsome, but so formal that she had to stifle a spontaneous smile. She sucked in another long breath. Although she viewed herself as easy-going, apologizing had never been natural to her.
“I’m sorry,” she said reluctantly. “What I did was kind of selfish, and I should have told you I was going out. Can we act as mature adults now?”
Garrett glared at her. Squaring his shoulders, he drew himself up to a tall and haughty posture. “Don’t lecture me about being mature. Your attitude was reckless and unacceptable, Miss Richardson. As things presently stand, you aren’t even expressing regret for your actions, but merely talking your way out of a guilty conscience.”
What? She’d just given him her best shot and he wasn’t satisfied? A single day in his company and she was sick and tired of him. She didn’t understand him. She couldn’t. She apologized, what more did he want?
“Okay,” she snapped. “That’s it. I’ve had enough of you. You’re nothing but a mean, spiteful man, and you don’t deserve the trust Dad puts in you.”
Shaking with fury, she didn’t wait for his answer, just banged the door behind her and went back to the sanctuary of her room. How could a mere guy irritate her so? A man she barely knew.
Before she had the chance to figure it out, Garrett barged in after her and slammed the door with a loud bang. “How dare you insult me? How in heaven’s name have you the audacity to intrude on my privacy and display yourself like a . . . like a—” Matching his glowering eyes, his tone flayed her like a fleet of razors, blasting its way through her protective anger.
“Like a slut?” She finished his sentence, hurt beyond words, wanting so much to hurt him back, wanting so much to take it out on him. “Well, Mister Burnes, I’ll
Similar Books
